


House Guests

by yoursempaihasarrived



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-08 10:05:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12862242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoursempaihasarrived/pseuds/yoursempaihasarrived
Summary: Stan's house gets broken into and the people that rob it take a lot more than his belongings.





	1. Chapter 1

It's 3 am but Stan had only been asleep for about two hours. Who would've thought watching bird evolution documentaries while talking to your friends on a walky talkie would've been so interesting.

His parents weren't home. His dad was away for the night because he had to have a meeting with the board of the synagogue and his mom was off at his grandma's.

It was nice getting to stay up as late as he wanted to. There was a teacher's planning day tomorrow so he could even sleep all day. Not like that was going to happen though.

Tonight it was easy to sleep without the usual pushy energy in the house. He was in a deep slumber, mouth wide open and drool all over his pillow which he would probably cause him to change all of the sheets on his bed the next day. He didn't even twist or turn.

Stan didn't even feel like he was dreaming. Everything was all black and he could only hear.

Glass shattering and doors being opened and closed.

The sounds are so realistic that it wakes him up.

The thing is, the noise didn't stop when he woke up.


	2. Greetings

Stan clutches his blanket. He's half asleep and cranky. If his mom decided to come home at 3 in the damn morning only to make a bunch of racket he was going to suffocate himself with his pillow.

Glass shattered again. Maybe a cup. That seems quite odd from his mother though. Stan grows a tense feeling all over his body and brings the blanket half way up his face so that only his eyes were showing.

 _The fuck was that_. He thinks. There was no way that was his mom, and it couldn't have been his dad. Stan closes his eyes and tries to go back to sleep.

"Jesus Christ... how much glass do these Jews have. I must've broken half the house."

Stan freezes. That wasn't his dad. _Okay Stan. Calm down. This is happening. Just hide and everything will be fine._

A door opened very very close to his room and all the effort he put to keep in his panic before failed.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

Stan rolls off the side of his bed so quietly that you couldn't hear a creak. He feels the need to get something to protect him but the only thing he can think of are the scissors in the drawer of his nightstand.

The thing was that it was so old it creaked even if you were two feet away from the drawer, but he needed those scissors. Without them he wouldn't feel safe.

He gulps and sits up. Careful like a spy not trying to set off any traps he approaches the drawer and grabs the knob. Slowly and slowly he starts pulling it out. There's little squeaks but nothing you could hear from outside. He grabs the scissors and places them on the floor.

He didn't even think when closing it. He was so glad that he had the scissors that he paid no mind to the though that it could still be so loud.

The screech of the drawer echoed through his brain and Stan jumped at the sound. His eyes widen. He starts to shake.

There was no way those people didn't hear that. On instinct he covers his mouth. His brain thinks that if he covers his mouth it would cancel some of the noise.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yeah. We didn't see any cars in the driveway. I'm gonna check."

Stan closes his eyes shut and curls into a ball next to his bed. His grip on his face tightens as he hears the door knob turning.

The door is slammed open and the light is turned on.

There's a pause before the man opens his mouth.

"Hi there."


	3. Feel The Freedom

Stan uncovers his face and says with a shaky voice.

"Hi..." he replies.

"Are you scared? You shouldn't be. As long as you behave we won't hurt you."

Stan sits up and nods his head yes.

"Good boy. Now stand up."

Stan does what he says and looks the man up and down. Scanning his appearance and memorizing everything he can about him.

"Come here."

Tall... Maybe 6'2". White. Dark eyes. Doesn't sound older than 20. He can't see much about him besides that because of his ski mask.

The man looks around the room and Stan notices him staring hard into the spot where he left the scissors. Stan acts like he doesn't notice. He's gotta play innocent.

The man grabs him by the waist and licks his lips before taking him outside. Stan flinched at the touch and the man just smiles.

"Who the fuck is that." The second man says angrily.

Stan steps further away from the voice.

"Just some kid."

The second man walks up to Stan and grabs his chin to tilt his head up. "Is there anyone else with you? You'll be sorry if you lie to us. Believe that."

"No one!" Stan blurts out. "No one else is here."

"Good. I'll take care of you now." The second one reaches out and pulls him in like a rag doll. He twists Stan's hands behind his back and holds his wrists together with one hand.

This one is shorter and tan. He saw a strand of black hair peeping out from the top of one of the stretched out eyeholes of the mask. This one also looked worn out.

Stan winces and wines at the pain of his arms being stretched out so quickly.

"Tell us where the money is. I know you Jews have stacks hidden. Every Jew does."

"M-money?" Stan's mind races. He has no idea where anything of the sort could be. He has to think of something. "In the study. There could be something in there." He holds in his breath to slow down his thoughts.

"Lead the way." The man holding him says.

Stan begins to walk and the grip on his wrist tightens. The circulation on his skinny wrists feels like it could cut off. It feels like bruises are already to form.

"It's here." Stan prays to god that there is money or something of value in there.

Money. Gold. Anything.

The first man opens the door and steps in. The second man lets him go and pushes him in before following. Once they're in he shuts the door behind him.

"Stay there kid." The first one says.

"Yeah." The second one grabs Stan's shirt and lifts it up. "You don't wanna do anything stupid now, do you?" Stan gets goosebumps and bites his lips together. He hears the man pull something out of his pocket before feeling cold metal pressed against his back. He shivers. "Right. Here." The man whispers in his ear.

Stan nods his head and says nothing. He looks at his wrists and rubs them.

The two men are searching the room, while they're doing that Stan is searching the room for a weapon of some sort. If he could stab knock one out he could totally outrun the other.

He turns his head to the right and spots a candle holder. In this moment number two is searching under the desk by him.

His heart is racing. This is his only chance. He wraps his hand around the base and counts to 3.

_1, 2... 3!_

Stan grabs it and drops it on the back of his head.

He would be thrown it but the fear of killing him made him chicken out.

He dashes out the door. The fact that number one was all the way across the room gave him an extra second to get down the stairs.

"You little bitch!"

Stan runs like he's trying to win first place in the Olympics. He's so close to the door.

_Please, please, please God._

He opens it and runs out. He feels 10% relieved for a good second.

However, all of those feelings came crashing down when he came crashing down.

He is tackled to the ground. It was so unexpected. He cries out in pain before he is muffled by a hand over his mouth.

He is picked up by the same man that tackled him. He struggles, kicks and kicks, wiggles, and bites the hand over his mouth but this guy's hold is far too strong.

He puts his arms out as if trying to grab the air from the outside. Tears form at the corners of his eyes. He was so close to freedom.


	4. Up The Stairs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: sexual content  
> No non-con yet

Stan is desperate to gain some attention towards him, he has to take advantage of the fact that he's outside. His kicking and wiggling can only stall so many nanoseconds.

Stan frees his face from the man's grip after spitting on his hand enough to slide free.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HEL-" He screams at the top of his lungs. A hand is slapped across his mouth again and the sharp pain silenced his words and his movements.

The man swings him around to the door and runs with his momentarily still boys. He is hurled inside and thrown to the ground like a child having a tantrum throws their toys.

Ouch. That must hurt. Stan landed on his side and he could hear a crunch. His shoulder was surely fractured now. His hip felt like his pointy pelvis was going to come through his skin. His arm felt like it was going to swell up with puss and leak.

He turns to his other side and sobs like a 5 year old, gasping and whining while tears came out of his eyes and snot came out of his nose.

"Didn't you think about the lookout?" This man sounds agitated, clearly from the fact that a little "brat" bit his hand hard enough to make it bleed.

Stan didn't think he had the capability to do that, nor did he notice the metallic taste in his mouth until he stared at the hand from the floor.

The man shakes his hand and licks it before locking the door.

Number 2 runs down the stairs. Stan jumps at the sound of his heavy, angry footsteps coming down the steps.

He stops in front of Stan and pauses before climbing on top of him then grabing a fist full of his curly hair before punching him several times. Landing hits on his eye, his right cheek, ribs. Stan screams and begs.

"Stop." " Please stop." "Help." The usual things someone in this situation would. He even looks at the crowd with the eye he can keep open to try and gain sympathy.

As number 2 grows pissed off at the pleas. He covers Stan's mouth with one hand, wrapping the other around his neck tightly.

"We will fucking kill you right now and never get caught." He whispers. "Do you fucking understand? We will FUCK YOU then kill you and never get caught. You better keep your mouth shut and stop begging for someone to come save you because no one will."

The thing that scared Stan the most from that sentence was the fact that they would fuck him. Stan really doesn't want to lose his virginity to these guys. He hasn't even had his first kiss yet.

"DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND!" The man roars at him. He tightens his grip on Stan's neck even more and removes the hand covering his mouth.

"Yes...yes." He chokes out.

"Good." Number two gets off and smiles. He has crooked teeth and thick lips.

"Get up!" Number three says.

Stan struggles to even sit up for a moment. The throbbing pain from his head impairs him. It takes him longer to stand up even though his legs are perfectly fine for now.

"See what happens when you don't listen? We told you that you would be just fine if you listened to us." One says. "But you had to act like your own hero and try to escape." There's a pause. "Are you going to disobey us again?"

Stan averts his eyes. It feels like he's getting a lecture from a teacher. "No." Stan says submissively. He was under their total control. There was no way he could try to escape again without getting killed.

Something about the fact that Stan is scared to even look at them excited them. "You wanna be a badass and run outside? Strip naked and let's see if you try again." Number three says.

 _Huh_.

That couldn't have been right.

"W-what?" Stan hugs himself tightly around his waist for some comfort. He  _had_  to have heard wrong.

"I know I didn't fucking stutter like your bitch ass. You heard me."

Stan is shaking. He's extremely nervous. Stripping down in front of your friends that you've known your entire life is different from getting naked in front of a bunch of strangers that could rape you at any moment.

"We don't have all night. Mommy and daddy might come in the morning." Number one teases.

Stan isn't taking any chances. He starts with his slippers. Then his pajama pants.

They all whistle.

"Damn he's barely got hair on his legs." Number two flicks his tongue and makes slurping noises.

"Nice tighty whities." Number one says.

Stan is red like a cherry. He feels like turning around or ripping his face off.

"Keep going baby." Number three smiles.

He hesitantly takes his shirt off. It feels so cold now that he's only wearing his underwear. He stops and wraps his arms around his chest grabbing each shoulder.

"He said naked. Take those off before I do it for you." Number two threatens.

Stan has never been so humiliated. He grabs the sides of his briefs and pulls them down to his knees where they fall to his ankles. He covers himself with his hands and presses his lips together in embarrassment. They laugh. That laughter made him want to cry again. He's being bullied only this time it was way worse than anything he's encountered with the Bower's gang.

"Take those hands down and turn around for us princess. Let's see what you got."

Stan turns away from their gaze and uncovers himself. He could feel their eyes all over him as if they were touching him.

"Damn. No lips and no ass. You're still cute though. Even with those marks on your face. They're your beauty marks." Number two says. He walks over and reaches his hand out to slap Stan's ass, not shy to grope him right after.

Stan jumps. "Please don't do this." He chokes out. "Please don't."

Number two wraps his arms around him and rubs his hard cock on Stan's back. "Don't worry baby." Stan holds back his tears. "We're not gonna do anything yet." He closes his eyes.

"No... no. Please." He begs. "I will give you anything you want! Just please don't do this."

"You're selfish man." Number one snatches Stan away from him. "We haven't even gotten anything besides some gold and the tv our friend put in the car." He grabs Stan's hips and squeezes them. " We want cash. Stacks of it like I said before. Give us what we want and maybe we'll leave you alone."

Stan wants to scream out of frustration. "I don't know. Please believe me." Stan thinks that if he tells the truth maybe they'll understand. It's worth a try.

"Yeah, we believe you baby. You better think of another place it could be before we take you as ransom."

Stan freezes. Imagining it. He's not dumb. He knows what they would do to him. The thought of being their plaything makes him want to hurl. He'd do anything for a chance against getting fucked by these guys. Stan thinks of a place obvious enough to have something.

"Maybe in my parent's room..." He lies, looking at them nervously and stepping forward. "It's upstairs."

"Yeah? Why don't you take the lead?" Number 1 says. "We don't know where it is."

Stan looks to the side and glances at the stairs. He walks towards the firdt step before covering his crotch and backside before taking the first step.

"Are you gonna walk like that all the way up?" One laughs. "That's okay. You'll give us a show upstairs."

Stan turns his head away from them and grimaces. Trying to keep the thought of what they meant out of his head.

Each step was humiliating. Trying to keep his hands in place required him to slouch forward. Three is directly behind him and grips the top of the back of his thighs for a moment. "Whoops it looked like you were about to fall." He says.

That was way to close to him. Stan hurries up the pace and quickly moves out of the stairway to let them up before he returns to his normal standing position.

"That would've been the perfect view." Three says.

Stan ignores him and walks down the hall to his parents room. The problem now was opening the door. Stan knew they weren't going to do it for him. He got as close as possible to the door and uncovered his crotch to press it against the door in at attempt to hide it. He twists the knob and steps in quickly to cover himself.

Stan expects them to start looking around immediately but they stop and stare at him. Maybe they want him to say something?

"There's probably money in the dresser." Stan says to end the awkward silence.

"We're not gonna look for it now. You are." One says.

"Me?"

"Yeah you. You can't cover yourself anymore now, can you?"

Stan freezes.

_They would see everything. **Everything**._

All of Stan's attempts to keep himself unseen were for nothing.

He's pushed forward towards the direction of the bed.

"Get to it."


	5. The Violation Of Stanley Uris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Choo choo.  
> TW: Non-con

Stan starts by looking on top of anything he doesn't have to bend over that much to examine. The desk, nightstand, etc. Each time he has to bend over more than an inch he freezes for a second and tries to position himself in a way he thought would prevent them from seeing his whole ass, even though it didn't work that well.

The men quickly take notice of his attempts. They think it's cute that Stan is trying to cover up even though he's butt naked. He can hear their snickering and it angers him that he can't do anything about it.

"Aww, that's adorable. Look at him trying to be modest again." Number one says.

Stan is shaking. He can almost hear the next words going to come out of this guys mouth.

"Get. Down." Number one commands.

Stan turns towards them and makes a bitter face. Pursed lips and furrowing brows. He looks a little too pissed off for the situation that he's in. You could hear the words, "did you really just ask me that?" coming from his expression.

"You got a stick up your ass or something?" Three remarks. "Or do you want something else up there."

Stan now stares wide-eyed before looking away. He gulps. "No, I certainly don't." He thinks.

"Do you want another beating?" Three says with impatience. Stan realizes he's taken about 30 seconds too long to decide his move when he sees the man's fist clenched.

Stan obeys. He falls down to his knees fearing that beating even more now that his dick is totally exposed. He knew he was going to show himself eventually. Might as well stop fighting back. His much smaller body is already beaten up enough. His eye and the area around it are already starting to swell and bruises seemed to form all over at once like magic.

"Turn around for us."

Stan reluctantly does it, crouching over since he can only support himself with one arm. They can see everything now.

This is all a show for them. Stan can tell they gave up on their promise to let him go. It was probably an empty promise anyways and he was a fool to have hoped it was true.

They all whistle at him.

"What a sight."

"Nice ass."

They sound like a group of guys catcalling some girl on the street, except this situation was way worse. The "compliments" disgusted him.

"I want to  **fuck**  him. Right. Now." One of the men says. Stan didn't recall which one said that. All that registered in his head was "fuck".

There's nothing worse than hearing something like that right now. It's a good thing Stan isn't facing them right now. He covers his mouth with one arm. " _Oh god. Please let me wake up now if this is some fucked up nightmare_." Stan thinks.

He hears the sound of clothes being shuffled around. Pants being unzipped. Shoes being taken off. Stan looks back for a second on instinct. Three catches this.

"Turn back around and enjoy the show. Seems like you're interested." The man taunts.

As Stan turns around he can see them all shirtless and shoeless, one of them already had their pants off and-

Stan notices the bulges that were dying to pop out. He sees their cocks bounce out of their pants and underwear and covers his mouth once again. His stomach is in knots.

They're completely nude now. As they walk towards him Stan starts to have a meltdown. He covers his ears and screams as loud as he can. "AHHH!"  _Someone_   _hear_   _me!_  He screams in his head. As he screams he scoots away as fast as he can from them. The first man grabs him by a fistful his curly hair and pulls him up to his knees. The pain on Stan's scalp temporarily stops the loud screaming and switches to a much higher pitched one. The man slaps him across the face repeatedly, not wanting to damage the rest of it as much.

"Don't you fucking get it, kid? No one can hear you, even if they did, What the FUCK are they gonna do!" The man yells at him. Pulling his hair to make Stan's head closer to his body. Stan places his hands on the man and tries to push himself away.

"Please, please, please! Don't do this. Don't do this!" He sobs. He can do nothing but beg now. "I won't tell. I won't. I won't. I promise you. Please leave!" The repetition shows how desperate he is.

They all ignore his cries. Stan is surprised when the man let's go of his hair. He didn't even notice the other one that walked up behind him. Stan is picked up abruptly and tossed onto the bed like some type of rag doll. Of course, it would be easy for these guys to pick him up, their arms seemed big enough.

Stan lands on his stomach and tries to crawl off the bed. He's fast in desperate times but not fast enough in this case. He's grabbed by his ankles and dragged to the edge of the bed with his legs completely dangling off. He feels something hard slide in between his buttcheeks. Stan begins to cry again. "No! No!" More screaming.

"If you shut up. Maybe I'll be gentle. I don't wanna fuck you in this position anyways. I wanna look at your pretty little face."

The man lets go and pushes him back onto the bed. Stan isn't screaming right now, just grossly sobbing. Another man turns him over and grabs his wrists and pries them apart to hold him in place. He struggles against them to no avail. Twisting his body all around.

"Help! Help!" Stan screams one last time. Definitely not as loud as before, his voice is hoarse.

"Jesus Christ this kid is a broken record." The last one says. That man watches the others waiting for his turn.

The man that pushed him into the bed climbs on and spreads his legs. Stan tries to close them but he's no match.

The man grabs Stan's small circumcised dick and begins to rub it so he gets hard. Stan squirms. He closes his eyes and turns his head away. "You like that don't you." The man teases. Stan does and he's ashamed.

There's no warning as a finger is shoved inside of him. That one finger feels like a knife being shoved into him. His insides feel like they're being stretched open to the point of bleeding. Stan screams. The man holding his wrists decides to hold them in the same hand while slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his screams.

Another finger is added inside of him after a short moment. He was  _not_  ready for it, the man knew it too. The man keeps rubbing his cock to add a bit of pleasure. He must have been trying to speed up the process. All of these men seem very impatient. The man fingers him roughly. Inserting them in and out as fast as he pleased. Not only does it hurt so much but the man is going to hard that it feels like he's getting punched in the ass at the same time he's getting fingered.

Stan is relieved when the fingers exit him, it still hurts but a lot less. He lifts up his hips to prevent anything else from entering. Anything counts.

Hands grab him by the hips and pull him closer. One hand is let go. Stan closes his eyes shut and braces himself. The man grabs his own cock and positions it with Stan's entrance.

Oh god, oh go-

Stan doesn't have time to think. As only the head is pressed in, his mind goes blank. The rest is pushed in abruptly. Stan's eyes pop open and he lets out a muffled bloodcurdling scream. He swears he could hear a tear inside him. There's no way he isn't bleeding at this point, who wouldn't be in a situation like this.

The man shoves his cock as far in as possible and keeps it in there. He pulls out after a couple of seconds. "No, no. That's way too dry." He shakes his head. "I don't like that. I need something wet. I need it to feel like a pussy."

The watcher hears and starts to scavenge through the nightstand without even being told to. It doesn't take him long to find a bottle of lube, halfway used at that. "Nice to see your parents still get it on." The man says before handing to bottle to the predator in between his legs.

The man grabs it from the other and lets 's go of Stan to squirt some on his hands. Stan watches the man lather it onto his cock. It drips down from there. Stan can feel the cool liquid splatter between his legs.

As soon as he's done he pushes it in again. It slides in much better this time, but better doesn't mean perfectly. Stan still feels the tearing. His legs are shaking and more tears come to his eyes.

"Fuck yeah." The man begins to thrust inside of him again. "That feels sooo much better." He's all the way in. Slamming into Stan mercilessly the bed creaks loudly.

Stan opens his mouth underneath the hand clasped over it. He's trying to get more air. Deep breathing always helps. He can barely breathe through his nose from all the snot coming out of it.

"You feel it baby." The man says in between breaths. "I know you do." Faster and faster. His thrusts are killing Stan. "You love it. You fucking love it." The man tilts his head back. He's sweating and close to climax.

He wraps his arms around Stan and holds him tight. One more thrust inside hitting Stan as deep as possible. The man leaves his cock inside before shooting his seed inside.

Stan had realized that the physical pain wasn't the worst part.

The man hops off. It's someone else's turn now. The man holding his hands and covering his mouth hops onto the bed almost immediately after the first man leaves. Stan doesn't struggle as much anymore. He's exhausted.

The man just sits there in between his legs for an entire good five minutes. He then leans his upper body down to lick Stan's chest. This surprises Stan and confuses his body. This feels good, he's only human after all. The man trails his tongue up to his neck. Softly sucking on the skin there.

He's so gentle at first, but he wants to give him his first hickies. The sucks become harder, yet still enjoyable. He grinds his cock against Stan's, at the Stan lets out a moan, he couldn't hold it in. All of this pleasure being given to him after the pain he just went through made him overwhelmed. The man presses his lips against Stan's.

Stan's lips might be thin but they're so soft. His skin is so smooth too. The man loves this. He parts Stan's lips with his tongue and slips it inside. Kissing and sucking on the boy's tongue. Stan gets hot and now he's fully erect. Stan kisses back.

_You can't like this._

Stan hates his body for doing this to him. His body wants to lay there and take it. He feels much more relaxed. He hates himself for giving in to this. Stan grabs onto the man's shoulders and tries to push him off. They continue to kiss until the man decides Stan's little break is over.

The man breaks the kiss. He grabs the bottle of lube and rubs it all over his member and fingers.

 _Not again_.

Stan grabs the man's shoulders and squeezes them as he feels his cock about to enter. Stan bites his lip as he can feel it being pressed inside slowly. Stan is still hard himself. The fact that he is more relaxed made it easier for it to go in. There is much less pain than before but Stan still weeps at the violation. There is no more need to cover his mouth.

Stan can hear the man's breathing and the occasional sloshing sound of the man's lube covered dick going in and out of him.

It's easier for this man to go in deeper since Stan's body allows it. The man grabs Stan's thin legs and hoists them up to his waist. Stan squeezes the man's sides on instinct. As the man begins to thrust he grabs a hold of the back of Stan's legs and presses them further and further into the mattress.

 _Ow, ow, ow_.

Stan isn't the most flexible kid. This makes his hamstrings stretch almost to the point of tearing and the man's grip was surely going to add another bruise to the list.

Stan throws the idea that this guy is any more gentle than the last out the window.

The man goes harder. It feels like he's getting hit in the intestines now. It's almost as if he can feel this guy inside of his guts. The wet noises start to speed up. Stan begins to moan softly, at least he can still control something.

"You feel so fucking good baby." Stan turns his head to the side. He doesn't want to hear this. "So good, so good." He speeds up. Stan can feel himself about to knock out.

He cums inside just like the last one did. He's glad he's not a girl, otherwise, he was certain he'd be pregnant by now.

This man takes his time pulling out and shakes his dick clean. Some of the cum left inside of his foreskin lands on Stan's tummy. Stan wipes the small splatter in disgust.

Now comes the last man. He climbs on the bed. Each creak sounding slow and ominous to Stan.

"No, please..." Stan whimpers. Using the last of his strength to grab the sheets of the bed and try to pull himself away. "I can't take it."

Instead of getting in between Stan's legs immediately, he stays by his side. He places a hand on Stan's bony hip. "You're being pretty selfish, baby. I had to wait my turn for you. You gotta be a good boy and take it."

The man closes Stan's legs together and flips him over onto his stomach. Stan is confused for a moment at the position change. He can feel the man climbing over him; the man's legs barely touching the outside of his thighs.

Stan gasps as he feels his hips yanked backward and up. His hip is still very sore and has swelled up quite a bit. The man's grip on his hips felt like hot iron squeezing him.

Stan can feel warm liquid running down his legs. He lifts himself on his elbows and looks down to see the damage so far. It's grotesque to him. It looks dirty. Cum drips down his thighs as well as some blood. Bruises decorated his legs. The sheets underneath him look like a porno gone wrong.

He quickly looks back up and buries his face in the mattress as the man lets go of his hips. He hears that snap of the bottle again.

Stan tries to mentally prepare himself.  _It's_ _the last one_. He thinks, trying to convince himself that he can handle it.

He feels the man's cock being pressed in. Stan whimpers and grabs the bedsheets, squeezing them for comfort.

This man doesn't start off slow. He's impatient from waiting so long. His grip on Stan's hips gets tighter. Stan's breathing gets harder. This position is so uncomfortable. He tries to sink his hips down but it's impossible with this man's grip. Stan hears the sound of their thighs slapping together like meat. There is no more pressure but there is still that tearing pain from earlier.

Stan gets up a bit on his elbows to get more air. He can't handle this. His legs are shaking and wobbling, ready to collapse at any moment. He plants his face into the mattress again. He is immobile like a sex doll. He hears the man panting like an animal.

The man doesn't like how quiet Stan is now. He grabs Stan's hair, they love to grab his pretty curly hair. "Tell me how good it feels." He pulls harder with each second it takes for Stan to reply.

Stan raises his head to go against the pulling and looks up. "Good... it feels s-so good." His voice cracks. He hates being humiliated. The men watching snicker.

Stan closes his eyes.  _Ignore them._ _It's_ _almost done_. He tells himself.

 _Smack_.

The man slaps Stan's ass. He's just having fun with him at this point. Stan flinches and lets 's out of scream, not just of pain but anger. That really hurt. More than this guy's dick in his ass.

More merciless thrusts and spanks. Stan can't hold himself in place. He can't keep up with this man's pace. His ass feels like it's going to fall off.

"Stop." He whispers. He didn't mean for that to slip out of his mouth. He looks towards the men watching him hoping they didn't hear him.

"You want me to stop?" The man says.

Stan doesn't reply. Instead, he clasps his hands together with fingers intertwined to brace himself for any sort of punishment.

Instead, the man pulls out. Stan turns his head to look at him in surprise. He can't stop to think why the man had stopped before being flipped over onto his back.

Stan lifts his head to look up at the man. The first thing he sees is this man touching himself. Jacking himself off in front of Stan's sweaty body.

Stan closes his eyes shut. He does not want that disgusting sticky liquid anywhere near him.

The man lets out a grunt and releases the slimy fluid all over Stan's stomach and chest.

_Gross, gross,_ _gross._

Stan wants to wipe it off. Some of it gets inside his belly button and Stan pictures it leaking into his intestines. Stan looks down to peek at how much of the fluid was on him.

The man laughs and rubs the fluid into Stan's chest, tweaking his nipples with it. Stan protests and grabs his wrists to try to pry his hands off. Can't these people see he's been through enough?

As soon as he's done having fun, the man gets off the bed. Stan turns onto his side that hurts the least and wipes off as much of the semen as he can. The smell of the bed, the blood, everything, is starting to get to him.

He hears a door opening and footsteps walking out. He lets out a loud breath, not just a sign of relief.

_They're done._

He hugs himself again. He can't even get into a fetal position since his legs hurt so much and his ass feels like it is torn open. He doesn't like the wet feeling in between his legs. He is grateful they didn't force him to cum.

He looks around the room and sees how torn up his parent's room was. If his parents saw this mess they would kill him. He rolls onto his stomach to see the other side and to his horror, he sees that none of the guys left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should Stan get taken as ransom or should he get saved asap?


End file.
